


Hunting Season

by Oryx_Gazella



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: DHMIS, F/M, Padlock, everyone gets beat up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryx_Gazella/pseuds/Oryx_Gazella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fight gets messy and goes awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Season

**Author's Note:**

> LAUGHS NERVOUSLY IM REALLY SORRY THIS FIC IS HUGE  
> I HAD TWO SHORTISH IDEAS AND PUT THEM TOGETHER AND IT GOT OUT OF HAND  
> WARNING FOR EYE VIOLENCE IM SORRY IT GROSSES ME OUT TOO

It was always annoying when it was Tony’s turn.  Not necessarily because Paige had to be constantly on guard, but because she couldn’t sleep in.  Tony’s obsessive schedule caused him to get up at the exact same time every day, which was to say ‘unreasonably early’.  Paige couldn’t afford to sleep later than him, or else he’d pick the lock to her room and give her a decidedly unpleasant greeting.  So here she was, already dressed at five twenty five in the goddamn morning, _exactly_ five minutes before he predictably went downstairs and made coffee like he always did.

His door opened and she heard the subsequent creaking of the stairs.  No doubt Tony knew she was up, since he hadn’t made a stop outside her door to listen for movement. 

Occasionally she‘d irritate him by occupying the kitchen before him, but today she was simply not in the mood.  Honestly she wished she could just curl back into bed and sleep in, but that would leave her too defenseless. 

In retrospect, this wasn’t much better; Paige was tired, and if Tony _had_ barged in to kill her, any reactions on her part would be sluggish enough to get her stabbed.  Paige flopped back onto her bed; maybe just resting would be enough to shake off the exhaustion that dulled her mind.  The house was quiet, the other three weren’t up yet, and the birds had yet to start making any racket.  Her eyes glanced to the window; it was drizzling lightly outside, and misty; the sun wouldn’t be making a real appearance any time soon. 

Her bed was still holding onto her body heat from the night before, and it seemed so inviting.  She could relax for a few minutes, couldn’t she?  Tony hated to break his schedule once he got started on it.  Paige let her eyes close; just a few minutes of resting…

She bolted awake at the tiny metallic clicking of her door’s lock.  _Damn it she hadn’t meant to fall asleep_.

“It’s rude to not knock, you know.”  She called, hoping that Tony would reconsider if he thought she wasn’t an easy target.

It worked; the clicking stopped, and slow, even footsteps retreated from her door.  She looked down at the digital clock on her nightstand to see 5:36 glowing in a pale blue.  He should still be adhering to his schedule; downstairs drinking a coffee with just one sugar cube.  Paige groaned; today was going to be difficult, she could feel it.  If Tony was so determined that he’d disrupt his agenda, then she likely wouldn’t be able to get a single thing done today.

So now what?  He’d probably try again soon, too impatient to wait much longer.  If she stayed in her room, she’d be cornered, but well-stocked to defend herself.  Going out into the house would leave her with more places to run if the fight went badly, but she’d also be walking right into whatever Tony had planned. 

Paige sighed; staying here wasn’t an option unless she wanted to seem scared.  In reality she was more annoyed than anything, but that wouldn’t stop him from taunting her.  She hauled herself out of bed, surly and mentally cursing Tony’s ability to get up so early.  Paige stowed a handful of sculpting knives in her pocket and slipped her favorite needletool behind her ear, fluffing her hair to adequately conceal it.

She regretted not killing him more… _enthusiastically_ last time they fought.  Her aim had been primarily to get enough blood to use as paint, so his death had been pretty quick.  Tony wouldn’t show her any such kindness. 

At least she could antagonize him into making a mistake, Paige mused as she descended the stairs.  The house was still dark; she appreciated it.  The slight, pre-sunrise greyness filtering through the windows made everything look different somehow.   It’d also be easy to hide somewhere shadowy and surprise Tony once he started a fight.  Maybe she’d plunge the needletool right through the thin bone of his temple.  What would the dulled colors of the house look like to him then? 

She got to the base of the stairs; lights were on in the kitchen.  She entered, to find Tony sitting in the same chair he always did, a mug in front of him.  It looked like he had been waiting for her.

“Don’t you think you should apologize for trying to break into my room like that?”  She asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I simply didn’t want you to oversleep again.”   There was that irritating smirk.  “And I’ve found that blood loss is an incredibly effective incentive to wake up on time.”

“I was already up, actually.  _My_ alarm clock does a much better job than you.”  She saw the tiny flash of irritation on his face.  Tony wasn’t a fan of digital clocks to begin with, and the fact that Paige refused (or destroyed) any analog clock he tried to replace it with annoyed him to no end. 

“It’s a pity you’re so useless.”  Paige said, turning her back on him and lifting her hand to ‘adjust her hair’.  “If that’s all you wanted to bother me about, I’m gonna go do something interest-“

Tony was up and out of the chair before she finished her sentence.  Paige had the sharp tool in hand before he reached her.  She felt a vicious tug at her hair, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from jabbing the weapon back, where it would hopefully find its way into his skull.

Her hair was released as she felt the harsh scrape of bone, but when Tony recoiled and yelled, she knew it hadn’t been enough.  She spun around to see what she _had_ accomplished; a gash starting from his forehead had split his eyebrow in half, the deep crimson dripping down his face in lovely contrast to his navy blue skin. 

While she hadn’t managed to take his eye out, she had still blinded it with stinging blood.  Now for the other one.  She rushed forward, intending to bury the metal spike deep enough into his head to pierce into his brain. 

By the time she saw the sword whipping towards her, it was too late to dodge it; she carried her momentum forward, hoping she’d kill him before any contact was made.  She felt the satisfying snap of his eye being pierced by the silvery weapon, and then she felt the sword sink in.

Tony’s impaired depth perception kept the hit from being immediately lethal, but…

Paige screamed and clutched at her upper arm.  Tony reeled away, a hand clamped over his ruined eye, tearing the needletool out of his face. 

Paige fell back, leaning on the wall, trembling; every shaky exhale came with a pained whimper.  Blood was gushing over her fingers, and her arm was completely unresponsive.  She took a breath, working up the nerve to face the damage.  She looked down at her shoulder.  Her grip on her arm tightened when she saw it. 

The slice went deep, too deep.  Deep enough that she could see she could see broken up white through the ugly red mess; bone was no longer keeping her arm attached. 

Her heart raced; would her arm even stay on if she let go of it?  She couldn’t even make her fingers twitch.  Paige cautiously lessened the hold on her arm, and the awful pulling feeling that resulted made her grab on even tighter. 

Tony shook, hissing unintelligible curses as he tried to wipe the blood out of his remaining usable eye.  He succeeded for a split second before another pulse of blood blocked out his vision; the enraged look he gave her told Paige she needed to leave _now_.  She braced her butchered arm against the counter and grabbed a knife from the wooden block before leaving Tony blind and alone in the kitchen.

“ _Get the fuck back here_ ” he snarled, hearing her running out of the room.

Paige, of course, ignored him.  Her dominant arm was hanging on by a few bands of muscle and a bit of skin; she couldn’t fight him now.  But where to go?  Her eyes scanned the room and fell on the back door.

            The house wouldn’t be good.  He knew the layout too well, and she couldn’t let herself get cornered, not like this.  Paige fumbled the door open and staggered outside.  She examined the misty grey woods beyond her garden; any other time it’d be an ideal place to hide and ambush him, especially considering his impaired vision.  But her arm…

            Options were running out; she had to try _something_. 

Paige made her way into the woods, acutely aware of the trail of blood she was leaving.  The wet leaves covering the ground didn’t make much noise, but they threatened to make her slip.  Her balance was already off, and a rock hidden under the decaying leaves could prove fatal.  Pain wracked her body, every careless step jolting agony through her arm, but she couldn’t afford to slow down.

She wove an uneasy path between the trees, wondering if Tony had gotten out of the house yet.  Was he waiting for his sight to return?  The longer he took the better the chances of her arm reattaching were.  But an eye was easier than an entire limb, and he’d be back together long before she was.  He’d easily follow the bright red tracks right to her. 

Fog limited her vision to a few yards, and Paige jumped at every snapped twig and startled bird.  Her ears were ringing, and she shivered; was it from the soft, cold rain that was starting to soak through her dress, or because she was losing so much blood?  She stopped, turning around and staring at the wandering splotches of scarlet following her through the underbrush.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tony’s breath came hard and ragged through his gritted teeth.  He was straining his ears, trying to gauge where Paige would attack from with his remaining senses.  The sting of blood one eye was distant compared to the revolting burn of his punctured one.  He didn’t especially want to think about the feeling of the fluid dripping over his cheek, or the feeling of the sickeningly empty hole filling with blood.  He caught blurry flashes of his surroundings when he managed to momentarily wipe his eye clean; he didn’t see Paige anywhere.

He felt around behind him, and leaned back when his hand found the counter.  She probably ran off to cower somewhere, meaning he must’ve hurt her pretty badly.  Good.

He didn’t know how deep the sword had gone, since her blow had connected before his.  He had been aiming for her neck, but considering he heard footsteps running out of the room rather than a body thumping to the floor, he missed.

As he wiped at his face again, he realized his gloves were soaked with blood, serving only to smear it around worse.  Tony fumbled noisily at the countertop, grabbing desperately at a dishtowel.  He scrubbed at his good eye until it was clean enough to open, then held the towel to the gash across his forehead. 

The kitchen was a  _mess_.  Paige had bled all over, but the lack of a corpse meant she didn’t even have the courtesy to die.  He stepped along the blood trail, and scowled when he saw the open door. 

 By the look of it, Paige had staggered into the woods.  Without knowing the extent of her injury, it was risky to chase her with half his vision destroyed.  She could be dying, or he could’ve just simply nicked a vein that was about to close up.   There was no sign of movement in the woods; how far had she gotten?  His sight was clearing up, and he now saw the way the blood splatters were growing larger the further they were from the house. 

A smirk spread across his now-frightening face.  He’d chase after her.  It was ethical to track down an animal one wounded, after all.

The bleeding from the slice on his forehead had slowed, and it was beginning to heal up.  With any luck, his eye would follow soon.  Tony returned to the kitchen and dampened the towel, starting to wipe away the mess caking his face.  He relied on guessing and feel to find the blood, unwilling to find a mirror and look at what she had done to him.

Tony hastily washed the residual blood off his sword, checked that his dagger hadn’t been stolen, and set off to hunt Paige down.  

He reached the treeline, and stared off into the woods; the trail disappeared off into the early morning fog.  A slight twinge of unease ran through him.  A cornered, bleeding creature was incredibly dangerous, and Paige was no exception.

However, Paige was also impulsive and drastic, and even if she worked up the strength to retaliate, he’d easily put a stop to it.

He strode into the woods, confident. 

Tony walked straight into a face-level branch, and he crumpled to the ground in pain, a hand clamped over his ruined eye.  He could’ve sworn it was further away…

His thoughts immediately turned to what he was going to do to Paige when he found her.  He’d cut her eyes out, and let her try to run away.  Maybe he’d deafen her by piecing her eardrums, too.

 Once recovered, he continued along the trail she so kindly left for him.  Hopefully she didn’t bleed out before he had the chance to kill her.  The blood just kept going, though; how much goddamn blood did she have? 

“We both know I’ll find you, stop wasting my time!” He called out.  “Just come out now and get it over with!”

No response.

Tony scowled, more annoyed than ever.  If he spent all this time trudging into the filthy, muddy woods only to find her dead on the ground…

Ideas of how to dispose of her body were already flooding his mind. 

The house receded behind him, and was soon lost from sight.  He was so caught up in formulating revenge that he didn’t even notice his eye starting to heal.  One more blink, and his sight returned so suddenly that it startled him. 

Shock dissipated quickly, and Tony grinned; now Paige didn’t have a chance.  He gripped his sword and quickened his pace, eager to drag her out of whatever hole she had crawled into.  The shakiness of blood trail meant Paige was getting even more desperate.

A crow screamed and flapped noisily off of a branch; he must’ve scared the stupid-

His sword hit the ground first when something sharp was shoved through his wrist, and he shouted out as a strong kick planted at the base of his spine sent him crashing into the dirt.  Tony turned over, and Paige was on him at once.

“Oh my god, you proud _idiot_.” Paige cackled, her knee pinning his uninjured arm to the ground.  He glanced down at the other one, to see a narrow carving tool impaling it.  A deep gash marred Paige’s shoulder, though he could tell it was starting to close up.  More worrying, however, was the knife she wielded in her right hand.

“I honestly didn’t think this would work.  I thought you would’ve figured out that I just doubled back.”  Paige laughed again.  Tony writhed, trying to reach the smaller blade still on his belt. “But no!  No you just kept going right on.” Her free hand caressed his face, and then savagely grabbed it, holding him still. “Oh, and your eye’s back too! Let me fix that for you.”

The knife raised up, and Tony closed his eyes, trying to flinch away from the coming blow.

A loud crack, and then his ears were ringing.  He opened his eyes; Paige’s face was shocked; frozen.  The knife slipped out of her hands and hit the ground next to his face with a soft thump.

“Paige?”  He asked, his voice sounding distant, muffled.

A line of blood fell down from under her disheveled bangs.  Paige collapsed on top of him, limp.  Dead.

“Oh God are you alright?!” someone else was yelling.

Tony sat up, keeping the weight off his speared hand, and rolled Paige’s body off of him.  The trees in front of him were splattered with blood and little white chips.  He yanked the metal tool out of his wrist and turned around to look towards the voice.

A man in a camouflage-print coat and florescent orange hat ran towards him, holding a rifle, looking panicked.

“Oh Christ is she dead?  Oh God I just- Sh-she was gonna kill you she-“ he kept babbling.

Tony blocked him out.  He looked down at Paige.  She was supposed to win.  He felt…angry.  Why was he so mad?  Of course he didn’t want to be stabbed, but...

The man was next to him now, kneeling on the ground, still prattling on.  Tony’s eyes flicked to the rifle, and he moved his hand to just barely touch it.  Springs and levers rusted to powder in seconds.  The fool just kept talking, stuttering, ignorant to his situation.

“We-we have to call the cops I can’t-“ he fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a cell phone.  His hands were shaking.

“Give me that.”  Tony said, holding out his hand, voice calm, still focused on Paige’s body.

The man placed the phone in Tony’s palm.  Tony looked down at the phone, and snapped it in half.

A surprised, scared noise was cut off by Tony’s grip around his throat.   The gun’s trigger clicked rapidly, uselessly.  A swift punch to the man’s chest resulted in a cracking sound and stunned, choked gasping.  Upon being released, he turned over, trying to crawl away.  Tony stood, approaching him and planting a foot on the middle of his back, laying him flat out on the ground.  He pulled the dagger meant for Paige out of his belt.

Tony stared down at the miserable, hysterical thing. 

How dare he.  How dare he interfere.  _How dare he kill Paige_.

A quick slice on the midpoint of his back paralyzed the man’s legs.  Tony pulled his glove off with his teeth.  His hand may be injured, but that didn’t meant he was unable to warp time. 

The sleeve of the man’s jacket tore away easily, and a deep cut along his forearm was made despite terrified protests.  Tony grabbed the arm with his bare hand.

The laceration barely had a chance to bleed before the bright red gash darkened, then turned brown, then black.  Tony released him, and blood vessels flooded with rot and infection with the next heartbeat, little trails of black racing up his arm.  The man writhed on the ground, screaming, crying, clutching at his repulsive limb.

Tony turned his back, walking back to Paige lying dead on the ground.  He sat down next to her, pulling her upper body into his lap.  Leaning back against a tree, Tony watched the interloper squirm around in agony while he gently pet Paige’s hair, waiting for her to wake up.

About two hours in, the screaming started to weaken, and buzzing insects had started amassing on the man’s arm.  Paige wasn’t alive yet.  Tony strolled back over to him, setting the injury back enough to keep him alive for a while longer.  

Tony looked back to the trees that caught most of Paige’s blood; it had started to evaporate.  Hopefully she’d be awake soon; gunshot wounds were a relatively easy fix. 

Large black vultures had accumulated on the surrounding branches, attracted to the scent of decay.  Crows and ravens were in attendance too, having followed the vultures.  All three groups were getting tired of waiting, something Tony could appreciate. 

Paige stirred gently in his arms.  She murmured sleepily as her awareness started to come back.

“Good morning my dear.” He purred down to her.  He was nearly drowned out by the howling cries a few feet away. 

“Did you cheat?”  She mumbled, groggily sitting up and peering around, blinking.  She turned to the source of the noise.

“No, but I got you an apology gift anyway.” 

She smiled “I didn’t know you were so good at picking things out.”

Paige leaned against his side, and they watched the frustrated scavengers descend from the trees; tired of waiting, they began tearing off strips of putrefied flesh.  Weak flailing made a few hop away, squawking angrily, but most stayed.  Tony wrapped his arm around Paige’s shoulders, and she leaned her head against him.

Once the movement stopped, Tony stood, and held out his hand to help Paige up.  She got to her feet, still a little shaky from her recent death.

“D’you think the birds will take care of the body, or should we do something with it?”  She asked; police weren’t much of an issue, but they were annoying. 

“I think they can handle it.  I’ll check back in a little while and rot anything they don’t take.”  They turned away from the jostling mass of feathers and beaks.  Neither of them knew what the man’s name had been, nor did they care.

Arms linked, the two of them made their way home.

**Author's Note:**

> some couples get up early and watch the sunrise this is almost like that


End file.
